


Hot Child In The City

by starbuckmeggie



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Bartlet Administration, Canon Compliant?, F/M, Gen, Hot, Lust, UST, heat - Freeform, hot child in the city, hot summer nights, summer time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29859696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbuckmeggie/pseuds/starbuckmeggie
Summary: Sam comes to DC for a visit & drags Josh to a country club.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Hot Child In The City

I am not a fan of the heat. I’m from Connecticut; we don’t do extreme heat. Cold weather I can handle but temperatures over 90 degrees are not good for me. Hot summer days are terrible, and the only thing worse are hot summer nights. There’s nothing appealing about the sun being down, the sky being dark, and the temperature being just as stifling as when the sun is out.

So, the only reason I can think I’ve been out in the heat all day is because Sam’s in town and wanted to hang out. He’s been in California for months while he sublets his place in town and finally decided he needed to pack up more stuff and make a definite move back to the west coast. I’m disappointed, of course, but his heart hasn’t been in the White House for a while.

His idea of hanging out, though, was to go to the Washington Golf & Country Club, where he’s been maintaining his membership. I don’t know how he had time to come to this place when he lived out here, never mind why he’d pay for it when he wasn’t, but it seemed like as good a place as any to get away from it all for a few hours.

It helps that the President is spending as much time with Zoey as he can right now, and seems to be very into giving us all some time to be with friends and family in the wake of his daughter’s trauma. Leo hasn’t objected because he’s spending more time with Mallory. Most of DC is in recess right now and there’s an air of lethargy that has settled over the city.

Sam picked a good time to visit. Other than the heat.

It doesn’t seem to bother him, though. We played a few rounds of tennis this morning before the courts got too packed—it’s not really my game but it’s hard to grow up in Westport and _not_ learn how to play, and he kicked my ass pretty good. After lunch he wanted to play golf, and it’s only because he’s one of my oldest friends and he’s now living on the other side of the country that I indulged him. I’m really not a fan of the sport, and it took even longer today to play eighteen holes; between the large amounts of people ahead of us and the fact that each hole took me a lot longer to complete than it should have, we were out on the course for a good six hours.

It wasn’t all bad; I did get to spend time with a friend, and he was willing to join me in my scathing remarks about the people around us to help pass the time.

Still, the sun is getting low in the sky as we make our way back to the clubhouse. I look like a drowned rat and Sam barely has a line of sweat on his forehead. The promise of an ice cold beer is the only thing keeping me going right now.

…And that woman climbing up the diving board ladder. Sam’s voice in my ear fades away as I watch this woman’s endless legs scale the rungs gracefully, my eyes tracing the curves of her body, barely concealed by her bikini. I know there’s a dress code here, and it doesn’t look like she’s technically breaking any rules, but I don’t think there’s anyone who would look at her and tell her to cover up, and I can only see her back.

Part of me feels like an ass—I really try not to ogle women like this, especially when they’re near water and often scantily clad. I don’t want to be the guy that makes them feel self-conscious or uncomfortable about it, and I really don’t want to come across as some creepy, middle-aged guy who can’t keep his tongue in his mouth. Sunglasses are a huge help for those moments, and I’m grateful I have mine firmly in place right now. This woman is just hard to ignore.

Fortunately, Sam doesn’t seem to be aware of my divided attention, nor does he notice as I start steering us toward the pool area. There’s an outdoor bar, too; no big deal.

The woman pauses at the edge of the board, checking to make sure no one else around her is diving before her hands go over her head. An instant later she’s in the air before making a reasonable-sized splash. She surfaces a moment later and I let out my breath, not realizing I’d been holding it until she was above water.

I keep my eyes glued to the pool as she swims over to the edge, disappointed when she climbs up the ladder on the opposite side from me. Watching her emerge from the water lives up to just about every fantasy I’ve had on the subject and I’ve still only seen her backside.

It’s a really nice backside.

“Beer?” Sam asks, dragging my attention away from the fantasy-woman and it takes everything in me not to growl at him. He doesn’t know I’m being a letch.

“Yeah,” I answer shortly, trying to return my attention to the pool.

He chuckles. “Someone’s grumpy because I kicked his ass in tennis _and_ golf today.”

“It’s fine.” I can’t find her. Not without being wildly obvious about it. Damn it.

“Well, your blood sugar is probably way out of whack. There’s a big to-do here tonight, and you’ll feel better once you get some food in your system.”

That’s so Sam, mother henning about people eating. “Wait. A ‘to-do’? You didn’t mention a ‘to-do’.”

His eyebrows go up and I realize I may have whined a little bit there. “The club is adults only tonight. There’s a big cookout and music and drinking. It’ll be fun.”

“Hmph,” I answer noncommittally. It’s good to see the guy, but even I have my limits. Spending the evening watching a bunch of stuffed shirts get hammered isn’t necessarily my idea of a good time. Unless the pool will be open. I might be open to sticking around while the pool is open. “Hey—there’s a table over there.” I gesture off to a free table near the pool, one with an umbrella. It’s not much, but any little bit of shade will help until the sun sets. The table has the added benefit of having a good view of the diving boards.

He makes his way quickly over to the table, staking his claim, and I follow a little more slowly. It’s still bright enough out that there’s a glare coming off the water and I have to squint a bit to see anything, but suddenly there she is, climbing the ladder again. I can only spare a glance in her direction without being too obvious, but I recognize that black bikini and lithe form without much difficulty.

Sam seems content to sit in companionable silence for right now, which gives me a chance to check out the woman. She’s at the edge of the diving board again, this time backwards, and I can’t help but feel a little impressed. I can swim just fine but diving has never been my strong suit. I have no problem getting into the water, but no one’s ever going to give me a medal for it. Diving backward isn’t something would ever occur to me and yet, here she is. A lot of her is still obscured by sun and glare but I can see her take a deep breath. I don’t blame her—I’m nervous for her. Half a second later she’s upside down, hands pointed at the water and then she disappears from view again as she goes under. I’d applaud for her if it wouldn’t seem weird.

She surfaces again, bobbing toward the edge of the pool as she calls to someone in the lounge chairs. I hear laughter a moment later that prickles at the base of my skull. I don’t give it too much thought, though, because she’s pulling herself up the ladder again. The water slides off her body enticingly. I can see more of her front this time and I’m not disappointed. She fills out a bikini nicely. I’m ashamed of my thoughts for a few seconds before I try to cut myself some slack. I’m not being creepy, I’m not offering to help dry her off, I’m just a guy appreciating the view.

A cloud passes over the sun, the glare disappears, and I feel my mouth dry out as the rest of her features come into focus. I reach over and smack my friend’s arm. “Sam!”

“Hmm?” he answers, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

I gesture vaguely. “Did you see…”

“The blonde knockout in the bikini?” he asks with a chuckle. “She’s hard to miss.”

I’m too stunned to give him hell for the knockout comment. “That’s _Donna_!”

He sits up straighter and I can see his brow furrow. “It is? Oh! So it is.”

“What’s she doing here?” I whisper, trying not to draw her attention.

He shrugs. “She’s probably here with CJ.”

“Why would she be here with CJ?”

“CJ’s a member here, too. I introduced her to the club years ago. I tried to get you involved but you said you had too much work. Hey! We should invite them to sit with us! I’d like to be able to catch up with everyone while I’m here.”

Before I can protest he’s on his feet, heading over to them. All I can do is stare in shock. The woman I’ve been ogling is Donna. I’ve never seen her in so little. With the exception of the incident with her underwear, if I so much as see a bra strap I try to avert my eyes. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable if I stare too long and now…now she’s all but standing around in her underwear.

I let long, low breath. Donna is _hot_. It’s no secret that she’s beautiful but this adds a whole new layer of appreciation. She looks goooood.

It’s official—I’m a pervert.

Sam reaches her at that moment and she throws her arms around him, hugging him tightly. My body tenses as I watch and I can’t help but feel a little…protective. She shouldn’t be hugging anyone while wearing so little. CJ appears next to him, too, hugging him when Donna moves out of the way.

I subconsciously lick my lips as I watch her, feeling my blood start to rush south. I _cannot_ do this here. I can’t get turned on like a horny teenager in front of Washington’s elite while I pant over my assistant.

Sam gestures toward me and I see CJ smile as she waves. Honestly, she looks pretty good, too, though she’s wearing a one-piece with a wrap around her hips. I can see Donna’s eyes grow wide as she spots me, her arms wrapping over her stomach. It could be sunburn but I could swear that her skin flushes.

Within moments they’re standing in front of me; Donna lingers behind them, apparently trying to keep out of my line of sight. I guess it’s weird to be wearing so little in front of your boss, but I’m seriously considering a very casual Friday policy around the office.

“They came here to beat the heat, too!” Sam exclaims, his expression excited. “They’re going to join us for the cookout tonight. Isn’t that great?”

“Fantastic,” I answer, standing up to move out of the way so they can sit down. CJ punches me on the shoulder, unfazed by my appearance, and takes a seat. Donna’s still standing there, arms over her stomach, looking shell shocked. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she answers uncertainly, her eyes darting up to mine before looking everywhere else. When I don’t move, her eyes search my face again. I’m not sure what she sees; maybe I still look stunned, maybe she can see my eyes through my sunglasses, or maybe I look as turned on as I feel, but she straightens her posture, her arms dropping to her sides. I salivate. There’s nothing obscene about her bikini but it leaves little to the imagination. The corner of her mouth quirks up and she steps past me, her body brushing against mine as she sits down next to my chair. “Imagine running into you here.”

Her legs cross, giving me a great view of the endless limbs I admired so much earlier, and I drop into my chair before my legs give out. The colors of the setting sun wash over her skin, making her glow, and it takes every ounce of self control I have to not suggest some very inappropriate pastimes to her. She leans back in her chair, arching her back just a little, enough for me to see her breasts strain against her top. Suddenly, I’m very excited about the “to-do” going on here tonight. If I’m lucky, I’ll get a nearly unobstructed view of my amazingly sexy assistant for a few more hours. If this heat sticks around, she might not be inclined to cover up. In fact, she might be inclined to go swimming again.

I feel myself tighten at the thought of her in the water in moonlight and shift a little to try to hide my sudden discomfort. She smirks a little, probably able to figure out my problem, but I can’t bring myself to care.

I may have to rethink my position hot summer nights.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written last summer in response to the prompt “hot summer nights.” Not sure why I never got around to posting it, but I think it’s kind of fun. Takes place in the early part of season five.


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